


Stay Close

by cerozer0



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Affection, M/M, The Lonely - Freeform, hey man cuddles cure everything, post-MAG 159
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerozer0/pseuds/cerozer0
Summary: The moment right after Jon and Martin step out of The Lonely. Short and sweet and introspective.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	Stay Close

They left The Lonely hand in hand. The fog, though it had seemed thick and inscrutable, receded with time. Jon realized, as they stepped over what felt like a threshold, that the grays and echoes of the fog were really just another monster to fend off— another nightmare to forget. And so, they left The Lonely hand in hand and ended up in the shadowed alley of a busy London street, the hiss of static and wind replaced by the patter of rain and footsteps and the melody of inner city traffic.

Jon blinked, breathed in and out, and found, surprisingly, that he could do so with ease. He strained his ears to pick up the tell tale click of a recorder and found that he heard nothing. Nothing, except the chatter of Martin’s teeth as he huddled behind him, head ducking against the rain. He turned immediately to crowd Martin against the brick wall, eyes wide and searching. His hands wandered, light but attentive, up Martin’s arms to his shoulders, then to his cheeks. In the shadow of the alley his hair was almost brown, and his skin seemed paler, more translucent. Jon could count the veins visible on Martin’s face. He did not press forward, did not even offer the full weight of his palms until Martin pressed his face down against one, eyebrows upturned and lips parted.

“Are you alright?” Jon asked, plaintive and warm. There was a deep need within his gut to ask something more invasive, to extract Martin’s true feelings with the ease of his abilities, but he was no monster yet. Martin stared back at Jon and said nothing. He looked exhausted, his usually welcoming face was gaunt and hollow. Small tremors startled through him every other second, spurned by the cold or the residual fear still eating away at his soul. He was so scared. Jon could cry, and somehow that made him feel so thankful, so human.

Martin sighed shallowly, then closed his eyes and swallowed. Jon was reminded of the tapes he had listened to, of Martin’s quickened gasps every time he read a statement, or the choked down sobs from Elias’ torment. Martin breathed in and out and steadied himself, just as he always did.

“Are you alright?” Jon prompted again, leaning in, letting Martin feel his warmth, his skin. Martin sucked in another shaky breath and then, finally, smiled. 

“Better now. You came for me, Jon,” Martin said and Jon couldn’t ignore how it sounded like a genuine surprise. His legs ached as he pushed himself up on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Martin’s neck and pull him in close for a hug. Martin’s hands hovered over his back, his hips, and then finally settled at the edges of his jumper. His fingers poked holes through the knitting.

“Of course I did— of course. Of course,” Jon said around the quivering weight in his throat. It had been easier than breathing, following Martin into The Lonely. Of course he would do it all again. He buried his fingers into Martin’s hair and his nose into Martin’s neck and he cried, silent and steady. Martin let him, didn’t say a word. Maybe he was crying too. 

The spell eventually ended as the rain picked up into a downpour. Cold and damp, the two pulled away, reaching out to instead lace their fingers together.

“‘s cold, isn’t it?” Martin said, his voice still a tad bit airy. Jon tightened his grip on Martin’s fingers and nodded.

“Quite. Let’s— God. Let’s…” Coherent thought evaded him. It was cold. The rain wasn’t much different from the constant moisture of The Lonely, and an ever present chill from the journey would surely follow them throughout the waking world until they found some place to warm up, “Mmm, my place— might be closer. We can get our bearings, call Basira maybe. Can you keep walking?” 

“Yes,” Martin mumbled, “Yeah. Yeah, just don’t let go?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Stay close,” Jon hummed. The two stood shoulder to shoulder in the alleyway, staring out at the street of strangers. Jon glanced at Martin again and saw that familiar resolve, weaker now, but not gone. Never gone. It steadied the fear in him as well. Together they stepped out of the darkness and into the rainy day, the end of the world still weeks away. For now, they just had the noise, the rain, and the growing warmth trapped in the spaces between their fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I haven’t written any sort of fanwork since I was in high school. I wrote this in a drunken haze two nights ago, so it’s unedited (unbeta’d?) and short and sloppy but. I love this romance.


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